For analogous reasons, its effect in the production of disease is increased by concentration or condensation; and such a state of things takes place in narrow and confined valleys, or in places surrounded by woods, or in woods themselves; in any situation, in short, where the poison is produced, and is so sheltered from winds that ventilation becomes difficult. And if it is probable that this is one chief reason of the peculiarly insalubrious nature of woods and jungles in hot climates, so is it an universal remark in Italy, that the short valleys in which the air cannot circulate are among the most pestilential spots. And if this explains, also, in some measure, the bad effects of calm weather, so does it account for the unusually pestiferous nature of rivers and lakes confined within wood, as are those of the tropical climates, and as there are many also in different parts of Europe. That we ourselves are not exempt from these additional causes of the influence of malaria, would be easily shown by many references, were it not for the reason which has caused me to exclude them.
It is another important question for practice, how far and in what manner malaria can be conveyed by the winds to places where it is not produced, so as to act in exciting disease. That it is conveyed to certain distances by winds is amply proved by an abundant experience, and I may first detail a few of the most useful particulars as to this fact. In Italy and Greece, it is observed, that where long valleys terminate on sea shores, on which the exits of the rivers are swampy, it is an [p045] effect of the sea breeze, by crossing such marshy ground, to convey the malaria up into the interior country, to considerable distances, and to places which are in themselves not insalubrious. Thus, also, does such a breeze, especially when it is a warm wind, convey the poison up the acclivities of hills, even to a considerable range of distance or elevation; a process facilitated by the natural tendency of such winds to ascend. And as a striking proof of this migration of malaria, it appears from Capt. Smyth’s statistical account of the insalubrious villages in Sicily, that out of more than seventy, about one-half are not seated near or on lands producing this substance, but on acclivities, at varying distances—thus receiving it through migration. The same is remarked by Montfalcon of many towns in France; while in some, the place at a distance is even more unhealthy than that which is immediately situated in the marsh itself: and in our own country, this is equally said to be true of the backwater at Weymouth, and of the marshes of St. Blasey in Cornwall, acting more powerfully at some distance than in the immediate spot.
With respect to the absolute distance to which the malaria can be conveyed, it is yet an obscure circumstance, or at least the maximum has not been fixed; but it is at least ascertained that the convent of Camaldoli receives it from the Lake Agnano, at a distance of three miles; while from certain naval reports, a distance of five miles has been proved to permit its transmission,—and from an evidence that cannot be doubted, inasmuch as it was the sudden breaking out of fever in a healthy ship, anchored at that distance from the shore, on the coming off of the land wind, attended by its peculiar and well-known smell.
These facts are satisfactory thus far, and it would be abundantly easy to add to them; but there is reason to suspect that it can be conveyed to far greater distances, in certain favourable circumstances: those reasons, in the first place, being derived from certain meteorological analogies and considerations, and in the next confirmed by experience. It is notorious that the ague appears on our eastern coasts with the first east winds of spring; and while this circumstance is most common on those of England, as for example, in Kent, Essex, Norfolk, [p046] Suffolk, and Lincolnshire, it is not thus limited, since it is known to happen further north, and even in Scotland, where malaria is not indigenous to the soil. It is very true that if we take any inland position in the places thus noted, the natural solution is, that the malaria is generated in the very soil itself of England, and merely propagated, perhaps even to very moderate distances, through those winds. But the occurrence of disease cannot be explained thus, when the place in question is so situated that there is no land to the eastward, or when the breeze is, most literally and rigidly, a sea breeze; while, when ague thus occurs on the east coast of Scotland, where it is not produced by the soil, it must be imported by the east wind.
These are the facts; while as malaria is not produced by the sea itself in any known circumstance, though a vegetating sea beach may give rise to it, we must seek the cause in lands far distant, and consider this as a case of propagation of the poison from the shores of Holland; and those shores are unquestionably competent to that effect: so that the only question that remains, the fact being admitted, is, whether, à priori, or theoretically, such a view is probable, or whether it is consistent with those physical principles that are concerned in the propagation of malaria.
I am aware that such a view will excite the incredulity of those who have not attended to this subject; though it appears to me that it comprises nothing averse to our knowledge of the philosophical circumstances concerned. In the first place, let us remark that the east wind, and particularly the east winds of spring, are notorious for their moisture, and that a moist air is the best conductor of malaria, as moisture in the air, under the form of evening mists, or in other modes, appears even to be its proper vehicle, or residence, if I may use such a term; and though I have not as yet separated the case of a fog, I may now remark, that the effect in question, or the production of agues by fogs arriving from the sea, is even more notorious than their generation by an ordinary clear wind. So notorious and popular, indeed, is this fact, that the fog itself is deemed the source of the disease, as the east wind under any form is, in other circumstances; while I hope it will even now appear, [p047] that the real cause lies in the malaria transported or conveyed by those winds or fogs, and of which they are the true and best repository and vehicle.
And these are the reasons for thinking that the malaria, with the wind, may be transported to a distance as great as that which the present view requires; most easily perhaps in a fog, but without difficulty even in a clear wind. It is remarkable that the east wind, as it is the most persevering, is that one also which preserves the most steady horizontal and linear course. I have also shown, in a former work, that it is a property of winds to travel in distinct lines through a tranquil atmosphere, and often in streams of a very limited breadth; that opposing streams will also move, in absolute contact; and that even rapid streams of wind will cross each other’s courses without difficulty. This proves that, in any such stream, there is a principle of self-preservation or integrity, and renders it probable that the several portions retain the same relative places to each other, at any distance, during the career of the whole; and there is a proof of this afforded in the fact of those columns or streams of insects which are brought over by such winds, and very frequently from those very countries, or from Holland and Flanders, in the most regular order, or without disturbance or dispersion.
Hence it may be argued, that if a malaria, generated any where and conveyed by the winds, can be transported to a distance of three miles, as has been proved, there is no reason why it should not travel much farther, or to any distance that can be assumed: and if this be true of a clear wind, the case of a fog is even a much stronger one; since there is little reason to doubt that the individual parts of such fog, in any assumed mass, will retain their relative places to each other, as perfectly after a journey of any given number of miles, as they did at the point of production; and if a portion of malaria has been united to a portion of fog, in the marsh which produced both, or whence both have come, there is every apparent reason why it should be found in that same portion at any farther or assumed distance, because there is no cause for either its dispersion or its decomposition.
A fog is a cloud, simply; and it is notorious that a single [p048] cloud, and often of very small dimensions, will remain at rest in the atmosphere, or travel very many miles without the loss of its integrity; however we may imagine it assailed by the various meteorological causes of destruction, as well as by mechanical violence. This in itself proves the consistency with which a current of wind preserves the relative positions of its integral parts; because it is plain that a disturbance among these must disturb or destroy the cloud which, in reality, forms a portion of that current, as a gaseous body: and since that cloud is a mist, since it might have been the very evening mist embodying a malaria, and since it is its real vehicle and repository, it is plain that had it, or any individual cloud, contained such a portion of malaria, it must have had the power of transmitting that, and would actually have transported it to any distance to which itself might travel. Thus, it is evident, may a fog, generated in Holland, carry without difficulty to the limits of its range, or to the coast of England, that malaria which became entangled with it at its birth-place or in its passage; and thus, I have little doubt, is the fact of those agues explained, and this transportation to such distances established.
I cannot, at least, conceive any demonstration as to facts of this nature more convincing, nor anything wanting to the proof; while I may proceed to make some remarks on the east wind, and on fogs, simply, because they concern this question.